


Climb Before the Fall

by ReptilianApathy



Series: Crawl Before the Walk [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Bladder Control, Brainwashing, Character Study, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Come Eating, Confinement, Cults, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Depression, Derogatory Language, Deviates From Canon, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Eye Trauma, F/M, Hallucinations, Horror, Humiliation, Hurt, Injury, Internal Monologue, Introspection, Kidnapping, Loss of Identity, Major Illness, Manipulative Relationship, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Coercion, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obsessive Behavior, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Physical Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Psychological Warfare, Rape, Religious Fanaticism, Self-Harm, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, Stream of Consciousness, Suffering, Suicide, Suspense, Tension, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Torture, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Vomiting, mentions of force-feeding, mentions of gang rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-07-20 18:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16142651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReptilianApathy/pseuds/ReptilianApathy
Summary: When the main character is kidnapped by a religious fanatic, not only does she have to survive but face her inner demons as well.





	1. Neighbourhood

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, so any feedback is greatly appreciated!  
> More applicable tags will be added as the story progresses.

“What do you mean I have to pay a fine?” she asked the ticket inspector, who held himself at the sides and smiled at her smugly. _No point in trying to convince him. The moron probably gets hard by harassing other people_ , she thought, flustered. The truth was, she had spaced out for a bit and validated her ticket too late, so technically the inspector had the right to charge her. Still, a shred of understanding couldn’t have possibly harmed him. She sighed heavily as she got off the tram.

It was already past 10 p.m., although normally she would be coming home much earlier. Unwittingly, she let out another pained sigh when she thought about how she had been held up at work today. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as protection against the cold. It was the end of October, so the evenings were getting increasingly dreary and unwelcoming. She spotted a thin layer of fog on a now deserted road as she continued to her next stop on her way home. Even though she had already wasted countless hours on transport every day, she could never get used to her long commute time and couldn’t help but get angry at her daily drudgery.

The same went for the place she was currently passing and which she frequented for the past few years. During the day, it was a bustling everyday route for many people heading to work, with stalls opening early in the morning and the smell of fresh fruit attacking the senses of passers-by. Now the stalls were closed and the only reminder of the place’s usual liveliness were the flashy signs advertising goods and services, barely visible in the night’s gloom.

The sight would be almost depressing were it not for the fact that she was going to see the place in full swing the following day. She smiled to herself reassuringly and started to walk more briskly, thinking about her much needed rest. Ahead of her was a train station with bars going down every time a train passed the small station on the outskirts of a bigger city she worked in. She just needed to cross the station and take a bus, and in under an hour she would finally be home. Another sigh escaped her as she walked past a darkened side street.

Something wasn’t right; the red and white bars weren’t getting any closer. Her view of the way before her became vertical when she hit the ground.

The last thing she heard was the sliding doors of a car.

***

She wasn’t sure what awakened her. Whether it was a metallic clang of something heavy around her ankle or throbbing headache, she was horrified to learn about both. She opened her eyes with difficulty, wincing at the pain radiating all over her skull. _Have I gone blind…?_ Confused, she stared into the pitch-black darkness that seemed to press on her eyes. She moved her wrists to find out how imprisoned she was, but thankfully it seemed only her ankles were shackled. She tried to readjust herself, as her body was getting sore from sitting in one position for gods knew how long. She tried to feel the wall behind her but stopped at the voice that suddenly rang out in the room. She gasped in horror.

“How does it feel, having all the time in the world to think about your sins?”

She scanned her surroundings and could make out a silhouette when her night vision kicked in. _Has the person really sit here in complete darkness and waited for me to move ever so slightly?_ she wondered with dread, the thought sending a shiver down her spine. _And what’s with the religious talk? Is he some kind of an inquisitor who took it upon himself to correct young women?_ She was almost mad at herself for being able to make ironic remarks in a situation like this. The truth was, she was still groggy from the hit to the back of her head and hasn’t yet began to register the new information. She remained silent, slowly mulling over the first words she heard after waking up.

“Since it seems you have delicate wrists, I decided against chaining up all of you. You grimaced and shied away from the touch every time I tried to shackle you.” Now that her hearing was heightened, she could swear she could catch an expectant note in his statement.

“Thank… Thank you for not chaining me up…,” she croaked, nervous to quickly express her gratitude, her voice hoarse from the lack of use.

_Thank you? What the hell?! It’s not like I can move any further, can’t I? Why would he chain me up…?_ Fear gripped her by the throat. _All the time in the world…_ It took her a while to process his words, but when she did, reality started to sink in, along with the panic at the realisation of her fate.

“How long have I been out?” she asked, unexpectedly calm. She was suddenly aware of soreness in her whole body.

“A day and a half. Even when I administered an appropriate dosage, you still wouldn’t wake up.” She was appalled at his thoroughness. “Here, eat.” She could hear the scraping of an object against the floor. She felt around herself and grabbed what felt like a plate with something moist in it. She hesitated a little but pressed on when the man spoke once again. “Eat. You’re already weak as it is.” He continued while she was eating what turned out to be rice. “I like how compliant you are. Perhaps you won’t disappoint me.”

“Where am I?” She cringed inwardly as the question naturally rolled off her tongue. She was afraid the man would soon feel the need to remind her that it was him who was in the interrogatory position. Surprisingly, he answered, once more in unnerving detail.

“In the basement.” He continued graciously as if he had predicted her next question. “You’ll stay here until we know how much potential you have.”

***

The most disturbing thing about the encounter was how conflicting her impression of her captor was. Obviously, she was yet to see him, so that could easily change, but the way he spoke sounded almost gentle. His voice was slightly husky and nasal, not something she would normally pay attention to.

She was observant enough to notice the many thoughts that raced through her mind during her unintended stay there. Previous ramblings of the religious fanatic could possibly account for her new predicament, but something told her that her abduction was not a mere coincidence. Although she couldn’t come up with a reason that led her to this situation, there was one thing that wouldn’t leave her alone, that one thought that kept nagging at the back of her mind.

A few weeks prior the incident, she entered a chatroom with a bunch of entertaining people. There was an actor who struck her as a playboy; a guy who refused to be serious and preferred to joke around instead; a university student struggling with his gaming addiction, whom she dubbed useless from the start; and a pair of co-workers who got flustered every time someone suspected them of office romance. Aside from their colourful personalities, they turned out to be a collection of fellow damaged human beings, with whom she felt a strange kinship. She especially remembered the fretful businesswoman, who had expressed her concern for the new member’s safety when she had offhandedly revealed a location in proximity to her house. A location that turned out to be the place she had been kidnapped from.

When blinding light filled the room, she was allowed a first look at her captor. He was surely bigger than her own small frame, so she couldn’t even dream of outrunning him. She wasn’t able to determine his complexion very well, but she could tell he looked pallid. His eyes were the combination of blue and green, underlined with deep dark circles. She noticed that his white hair was most likely bleached because she could see red roots at the scalp. Scared that she would spark his anger with too much staring, she lowered her gaze to the floor.

When she was finally able to put a face to the voice, she felt a strong commanding presence about him. Although she didn’t sense any imminent threat, he still unnerved her. _He’s like an unmerciful god who doesn’t tolerate insubordination_ , she tried to remember this thought for later. She froze when he cupped her chin and moved her face from left to right as if he was examining her.

“What’s wrong with your eye?”

“I had an accident…,” she answered reluctantly. Even in the situation when her pride was the least of her concerns, she still felt embarrassed. What was worse was how her kidnapper immediately sensed her mood and gave a mocking smirk.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make you perfect.”

She obviously didn’t know that, but there was something missing from the look in her eyes. There was no fire of defiance, so common with the victims who harboured the hope for escape. But, rather than not being there in the first place, the hollow yet somewhat desperate look betrayed that the fire had once been there, but was snuffed out due to unidentified circumstances.

Just when she thought that her captor may not be of the worst sort, another cryptic statement of his reached her ears.

“I can tell you’re already half the required way. This is going to be so much fun.”

With that, he left and she watched the last ray of light disappear from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this short introduction! The story is planned to comprise five chapters. Two additional chapters are going to explore alternative versions of events, one of which can be considered as 'bad ending'.


	2. Clearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the people who left kudos and comments on the previous chapter. I hope you will continue to welcome and enjoy my writing!

She wondered how much time it would take for anyone to dub her missing. She didn’t have any immediate family and her friends didn’t really call her on a daily basis, so it would be a couple of days before they noticed something was wrong. As for the people from the chatroom, they didn’t know her long enough to suspect anything. They probably thought that she couldn’t log in because real life got in the way. _Well, life **did** get in the way_ , she thought in grim amusement.

Her job, on the other hand, was infamous for its unsatisfactory working conditions, so it wasn’t uncommon for people to resign without notifying their colleagues beforehand. The most alarming sign of her absence would be her inactivity on social media, which in turn led her to speculate about whether her kidnapper had disposed of her phone. It probably would be a bad idea to ask him that, though: she didn’t want to inspire his wrath by such trivial questions.

She rarely gave thought to her parents; knowing that they had left too early was always painful in itself. But, right now, she was compelled to think that the chances of finding her were rather slim because not many people would be aware of her absence in the first place. This would of course be out of the question if she had a loving family.

After what felt like ages spent in the dark basement, which in reality was a mere week, her mind was reeling. The captor seemed to know this, for every time he came down to feed her, he would assure her that in the near future she would be moved to a proper room, as if she was waiting at the reception desk and not being at the mercy of a lunatic.

At times, instead of him, the one to visit her was some hooded figure who refused to speak, except for that one time when they uttered an ominous remark. She wasn’t sure if her heightened senses were to blame, but the person’s voice sounded strangely elated.

“The master appears to be fond of you. Be glad.”

She didn’t know the reason behind his generosity and what would become of her later, but she rejoiced at the fact she wouldn’t remain in the basement forever. What’s more, she didn’t expect to see the light of day before long, but the time had come sooner than she thought.

***

One day, when the hooded figure came to offer her food, they announced that she was going to take a walk and should wash herself beforehand. During the previous week, she had been given a bowl with water twice, so she was glad to have a proper shower. To her surprise, she was allowed to walk on her own and she wasted no time in looking around. She was unconscious when the kidnapper had brought her here, so she didn’t know anything beside the basement. She ascended the stairs and pushed the doors leading to a staircase. Change of scenery gave her brain a much-needed stimulation and she promptly searched for an exit. Before she could move any further, another silent individual approached her and led her into one of the flats. She was given a towel and was left to her own devices in the bathroom.

There was not much in here apart from a sink, a dirtied and cracked mirror, a shower, and a set of warm clothes someone had left on a toilet seat. She considered breaking the mirror to create a makeshift weapon, but the risk of hurting herself and being questioned about that was too high. She sighed and winced when cold water from the shower hit her. Despite waiting a while, the water hadn’t gotten any warmer, so she couldn’t relax, but she let her thoughts wander anyway. _Where are they taking me? A walk sounds far too simple…_ Doing something so ordinary like taking a shower while being held hostage was a peculiar feeling, as if she was learning to do basic things for the first time. She resolved to wash herself quickly so as not to abuse her captor’s good will. When she dried herself thoroughly and hid her wet hair in a hoodie, she peeked outside the door apprehensively.

The captor was nowhere to be seen, but someone must have guarded her because a person appeared by the apartment’s door almost immediately and proceeded to blindfold her without any explanation. She was escorted outside and with no hopes to orientate herself, the least she could do was to listen. There were not many noises to hear in the first place and the ground was uneven, so she needed to focus more on walking rather than trying to detect anything. She stumbled frequently and although the person held her by the shoulder, their grip was way too weak for her to keep her balance. They walked for a while and she understood she was being led outside the premises when she finally heard the sounds of nature. Before she could get used to new stimuli, she heard the voice of her kidnapper and her heart started beating wildly. When addressing others, he sounded authoritative and somewhat impatient, which surprised her because this was not the tone he used with her.

When her blindfold was taken away, she released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. She took a mouthful of fresh air, the feeling that entered her lungs intoxicating after all the time spent in the fetid basement. She was startled at how novel this sensation was, although it should have been normal. She was overcome with conflicting emotions. _I can’t believe this. My hands aren’t even tied… It looks like I’m equal to him. Which I’m not._

She looked around, remembering her goal to collect observational data, but didn’t notice anything in particular. She couldn’t really count on being allowed the slightest advantage and in fact, her current location didn’t provide her with any vital information. She still didn’t have a clue where she was. They were surrounded by trees and there was a gravelled path that would take them deeper into the woods. Even if there was something to memorise, she wouldn’t be able to do it. The kidnapper let out a displeased huff every time she looked away from him for too long; his own intense gaze was firmly locked on her face.

When he visited her, it was always dark, so the lack of physical representation made his ambiguous messages even more difficult to comprehend. Although she could see him now, it didn’t make much of a difference because his face was expressionless most of the time. The only new thing she noted was how unhealthy he really looked: the bags under his eyes were puffy and permanently ingrained into the skin.

“You’re not afraid,” he said matter-of-factly, but she knew he merely tested her and tried to provoke her into doing something reckless.

However, his sinister presence was enough to pin her down. Her survival instincts were screaming at her to move, to do anything, but she wouldn’t budge. The absurdity of this situation, being able to walk freely beside him and simultaneously not daring to think about running away, was enough to send her mind into a state of frenzied panic. She felt like a bug on a needle, a juicy morsel for a predator, which was biding its time, considering what will make their prey taste better. She exhaled audibly and even this detail didn’t escape his scrutiny.

It was impossible for her to decipher his way of thinking. She wasn’t able to define his mood swings; he seemed almost volatile and changeable, but there was something else to it, something she couldn’t quite place. She couldn’t find any pattern or logic behind his behaviour. _What exactly is the purpose of this walk? Is it a show of dominance, just to remind me how powerless I truly am?_ It was strange, considering how her current position was seemingly convenient. She was grateful for an opportunity to stretch her legs, but she couldn’t wrap her head around his ulterior motives. They continued down the path and she felt like each step was driving her to the edge.

_This feels like the freedom I should be able to take for granted._

“You’re not thinking about leaving, are you? Even if you are, after I’m done with you, you won’t ever consider abandoning me again.” She could see an unspoken warning in his eyes.

This was enough. She knew this was precisely what he aimed at and that she shouldn’t let his words get to her, but it didn’t matter. The knowledge that he would do anything he wanted to her was driving her insane. All emotions came rushing to her and she started running in the most promising direction, which didn’t prove to be a rational decision at all. She ventured off the path on a faint trail where the trees grew denser. Stray sprigs stuck in her hair and slashed her face as she continued unencumbered. Everything was a blur as she ran, but she could see a clearing before her, a brighter spot so distinct from the darkening forest.

She should have known better. She didn’t stand a chance from the beginning. A few days spent in the basement were finally taking its toll: daylight now enough to blind her, her muscles unaccustomed to the effort. For a moment she didn’t feel anything and thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to escape. She should have known he gave her hope just so he could crush it. His arms closed around her and caged her into an iron grip.

She was paralysed with fear, completely unresponsive to him while he tied her to a tree, methodically securing the knots in three places at the level of her chest, waist, and legs. Suddenly, something clicked in her brain and before she could stop herself, she started shouting.

“Please don’t leave me here!” she begged, her voice saturated with as much despair as she could muster.

 “Too late. Don’t worry, though. I haven’t given up on you yet. With proper guidance, I believe you can serve me well. I will return.”

His promise to come back didn’t seem to put her at ease. Either from physical exertion or extreme stress, her vision went blank and she collapsed forward, ropes around her body creaking and straining.

***

She jerked awake and let out a helpless yelp at the twine burning into her skin. Only now when she was groggy enough to calm her fear, she resolved to survey her surroundings. It was a heavily-wooded area with logs of felled trees gathered in neat batches, so it must have meant that someone had been taking care of the habitat. The smell of rain lingered in the air. As much as she had made a mistake, she willed herself to assess the situation logically. She reckoned some time must have passed because it was nightfall now and the woods were eerily silent as opposed to the sound of birds chirping from before she fainted.

However, it was difficult not to lose herself to hysterics again, as she was now uncomfortably aware of her position. Her arms began to ache in no time, considering how they were tied behind her and clutched to her body. She tried the ropes, but the kidnapper must have known what he was doing: the slightest attempt at shifting her muscles caused the ropes to chafe her skin. Most importantly, she recalled him saying he would be back, but how long would it take? The cold was beginning to get to her and she was sure that her adrenaline and sweat could easily attract some wild animal, at least at night when there was not much movement. Then again, why would the captor leave her if he needed her for something? Her musings were interrupted by the very person she had been agonising about.

“I thought you could use some fresh air. After all, I need you to think clearly, no?”

 “What do you want from me?” She clenched her jaw, trying to suppress the build-up of emotions and steady her heart, which resumed its frantic pounding.

“You’re not listening to me. I thought if you didn’t like the basement then perhaps you’d prefer to be out in the open.” His words carried such heavy irony that she half-expected him to grin wickedly. He was deadly serious, though. _What is he even thinking? Why am I feeling I’m the one wrong here? Why is he talking like we’re regular acquaintances all of a sudden?_

“Just…,” she found herself at a loss for words. This situation was so inconceivable that her weary mind refused to accept his fuzzy logic.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he said and proceeded to cut through the ropes.

The captor helped her down and grabbed her firmly when her legs gave out under her. She couldn’t help the overwhelming gratitude towards him, although the rational part of her mind screamed that it was him who had put her through this misery in the first place.

***

“I hate you, you fucking freak! Why are you doing this?!” she hollered at him from the metal table she was laid at. Fury like nothing she’d ever felt before boiled her blood when she noticed the only change at her outburst was that his expression turned contemplative.

“You need more,” he stated.

“No! Please… I need medication.” She pulled at the restraints as if to prove her point. It was no use, it just made the pain in her wrists stronger.

“There’s hardly anything a good amount of faith can’t fix. From now on, you don’t get to decide about yourself. You’re not in the position to make demands because your very will is corrupted.” She sobbed openly at his remark. “The elixir works differently for everyone. If you react this way, it just goes to show how much sin there is in you to eradicate.” He nudged her cheek with an uncorked bottle. “Drink. If you don’t… Do you know what waterboarding is? I will do it to you. Except that, for reasons, I won’t use water, but the elixir. I have plenty to spare.”

She instinctively looked around, but containers with the liquid were nowhere to be seen. She was now in a tiled room, which white walls and glaring light made it appear sterile. _Why is this happening to me?_ Being brought from one room to another was aggravating. Even though she was moved around, she couldn’t work out the layout of this building. She was still in the dark.

“Tsk, don’t get distracted, or I’ll get the idea that my threats mean nothing to you.” She tensed and directed his attention back to him. He obviously didn’t like it when she wasn’t looking at him only.

She hated it. She hated this mockery of choice he presented her with. She hated how frail her body was, how it felt like a cage for her soul that was hindered from flying without restriction. She hated how he used the simplest tricks to make her obedient and subject to his crazy whims. She hated when he held her nose while she thrashed around, fighting for breath, until her body fell limp and she was forced to open her mouth.

And most importantly, she hated how tender his hand felt at the nape of her neck when he supported her so she wouldn’t choke on the elixir.

Almost as if he didn’t want to hurt her.

Pain erupted in her veins and seared her whole body, so unrelenting that she had the impression it was seeping into her very essence. So severe, she was tempted to believe this was indeed some purification process. In reality, it was just the effect the elixir had on her mind. She fought a losing battle to remain lucid against a drug that was slowly taking over. She desperately clung to the last strands of sanity, but every thought she tried to grasp became disjointed and perverse.

One moment she was standing outside, breathing in the midnight breeze, the tall grass tickling her ankles. The other, she looked up at the blood-tinged sky, golden runes etched into the skyline, her heart beating arrhythmically to a powerful mantra. She felt maggots underneath her skin and wished to be flayed alive just to be able to rid herself of the wriggling filth. She didn’t remember the details about her parents, but the blanks were filled by her imagination. Their faces turned hollow and lichenous, their voices distorted beyond comprehension. She curled in on herself and shivered in fright as long-limbed creatures leered down at her, their faces twisted with malice.

***

She awoke from a fevered dream. She felt weightless, the burden of sad reality lifted off her shoulders. She glanced around the room she was relocated to and noted that air quivered with energy, flecks of which coalesced and focused around a familiar person: the man seated at her bed. She vaguely remembered that he had been there before it all happened and must have watched her while she sweated and screamed afterwards. _He cares for me_ , she reasoned in a haze. She gazed at him without any inhibitions now. She carefully studied his features, but always came back to his eyes. She could drown in them; they reminded her of a placid lake. She would gladly plunge into its depth and let the comforting abyss envelop her. When he noticed the change in her behaviour, he offered her water, which she promptly gulped down in hopes of extinguishing the fire in her throat.

“You’re here. You’re real,” she mumbled.

There was something calming about his stoic and unfazed expression, but her heart fluttered when a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he observed her new reactions.

“You’re beginning to see it. Just you wait. I have much more to give you.”

The only answer she provided was a long dazed look and a fixed smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter. I encountered some problems along the way and, uh, it didn't quite turn out the way I intended. Anyway! Stay tuned for Chapter 3, which is going to be even more intense.


	3. Myopic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter features a particularly graphic scene.

When sobered up, she was deeply troubled by the words that had left her mouth earlier. The peculiar post-high feeling didn’t seem to go away. She felt like some part of her was vacant as if half of her soul was ripped from her body. In reality, it was the weight of emotions carefully suppressed during the years of her life. All the traumatic memories had resurfaced and she was bound to relive the hurt from the past, but now she was almost happy. She was not easily fooled, though. She could feel that beneath a poorly-established layer of drug-induced bliss there were all the memories relevant to the preservation of her identity. Although growing distant and pushed to dark and remote corners of her mind, they still were there. It would take more for her to succumb, so she knew that to avoid further drugging she needed to play along. Perhaps then she would be able to survive and escape this hellish place.

She was acutely aware of all the small things that were beginning to get to her. The elixir tasted foul and was of crystalline blue colour, which made it look like a mouthwash. It left her with an irritating sensation that, combined with a dull ache in her stomach, caused her general discomfort. She was heavily reliant on anti-inflammatory medication, but upon hearing the flawed line of reasoning about all-healing faith, she decided against asking her kidnapper for any sort of relief. The pain added to mental strain she was suffering from right now and was draining, like she was being engulfed in the acidic wildfire that was ravaging her body. It reminded her of all the previous times when her illness would flare up and cause her difficulty with performing basic tasks and even moving around. Prolonged exposure to humidity in the basement certainly did not do wonders to her joints because they were becoming swollen and stiff. This had bothered her earlier when her captor remarked about the condition of her wrists; he had yet another spot to torture and to use as leverage against her.

She started analysing the whole situation and came to the conclusion that apart from being trapped in the most literal sense, she was also cornered figuratively. She felt as if there was an expansive cobweb occupying her consciousness and creating the impression that her mind was no longer her own. Was it normal that she bent to his will so easily under relatively little pressure? Owing to her broken body, her intellect had always been her only tool in life and therefore she had resolved to keep it sharp at all times. She used to able to complete work under the watchful eye of an unforgiving employer without skipping a beat. Currently, her judgement had been clouded by some nefarious drug, which made thinking straight an accomplishment.

Worst of all, she was getting increasingly despondent. Before, she didn’t really have the time to process everything that had been happening and consider what it meant for her. Now, the immediacy of her position almost crushed her. She wouldn’t think that she could be both resigned and desperate, but this was what it felt like. However her life sucked before, it held a purpose. Sometimes, getting through the whole day without having a panic-fuelled drama episode brought her satisfaction. At the moment, though, she felt like she was being stripped of her own existence. She found herself missing all the little details she barely noticed before: drinking weak coffee in her office as an excuse for not doing her job or dealing with that one ranting co-worker she couldn’t stand.

There were few things she was ever afraid of, one of them being stagnancy. She would have never expected to be stuck in a place like this, with people who were most likely junkies, living to see their next fix. _It’s almost like **undeath**._ At this point, her perception of time was distorted, yet she couldn’t help but feel the chances of returning to her life were slipping away and the prospect was becoming less and less realistic with each day. Time was running out and she was growing restless, especially because the days felt all the same and passed way too quickly. _I just want to go home… At this rate, I will forget everyone’s faces. Just like Mum and Dad…_ To stay sane, she recounted the faces of her friends in front of her closed eyes. It helped a bit, but simultaneously resulted in tinges of regret, just like every memory of a deceased friend was a painful reminder of their absence.

With time, her thoughts about her abduction took a different turn. _Why me? My life is a mess. I didn’t even appreciate my life until I was found in a situation like this. Am I that useless and ungrateful? Perhaps it’s a price for scorning my existence…_ The kidnapper would disappear for days, making her feel like she was repenting for a sin she hadn’t committed. This left her with no choice but to await his return every time, for many reasons. At one hand, she was scared of him and needed to brace herself for his visits. On the other, he was her only source of any stimulation in this accursed place. The agitation he caused, however intense and destructive it might have been, left a blank space once it subsided. It was either him or the profound feeling of wrongness. It was either him or being alone with dark thoughts. She couldn’t stand the silence. She couldn’t stand the emptiness.

Every night she would stifle her crying moans by biting her closed fist. The urge to get rid of this terrifying hollowness was so great that she started to hurt herself. Normally, pain would be an alarming sign that something was amiss. However, the need to have but a poor substitute for real emotions was so prominent that the pain was considered downright ordinary. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but she got addicted to it very quickly. This was the only way she felt there still were decisions for her to make and that she retained some semblance of influence over her own life.

***

Now that she was allowed a modicum of freedom, she was able to gather some information about the place she had been brought to. It was a residential district that comprised large blocks of flats. It rained frequently here, to such an extent that the soil failed to absorb everything. Large muddy puddles accumulated and with incomplete pavements, it was difficult to navigate the resulting mess. Most of the time, clouds tightly covered the whole sky, effectively blocking sunlight and making the concrete even more grey in appearance. Some of the skyscrapers were veiled by thick fog at the upper stories. The place seemed to be frozen in time and was forever under construction: inoperative cranes towering over unfinished buildings, rust settling in the nooks and crannies of exposed metal, unused cement lining pipes lying around, their original purpose long forgotten.

Her room was on the ground floor of a peripheral block. It had a small corridor with one more locked doors and a bathroom. The room was definitely used before and had a lingering touch of someone else’s presence, but at the same time it felt incredibly alien. She knew that even if she had her personal possessions with her here, the sad unfamiliarity of the place would never be erased from her awareness. In the state of growing paranoia, she could swear the objects were oozing with foreign grime. To some degree she was right: tattered wallpapers hung loosely off the walls and the uncomfortable couch creaked pathetically every time she shifted on it. Perpetual shade made the room seem even smaller, so on top of everything, she had to fight off the claustrophobic press of the walls around her. She produced the pencil she found in the drawer of a desk and scribbled a single ****_**I**_  on the wall near her bed. She gingerly patted the wallpaper over the spot, intending to repeat the whole deed the following day. Somehow she felt slightly better when she marked her presence like that.

She was glad that her room was not directly adjacent to the staircase because she found occasional noises from there highly disturbing. It was definitely speech, but it was always so incoherent she couldn’t make out a single word. Besides, its cadence and delivery reminded her of a chant, so she refused to think about it any further. After a few encounters with the residents, she abandoned all hopes of having a conversation with a normal human being. Although through paper-thin walls of her accommodation she would often hear how loud they could be, they would remain stubbornly silent in her presence. They moved in a mechanical and entranced manner and every one of them exuded an aura of absolute obedience to some unnamed higher power. Yet, there was no telling to what exactly they were being so faithful to.

Her position was limiting, not only because she was locked up in a room, but also her block was only a fraction of the whole district. Being restricted like this was depressing enough, yet knowing only a portion of what was happening here was deeply unsettling. Nonetheless, she was able to work out the established routine of this place, which involved outside gatherings. Through a small window, half of which was permanently obscured, she could see a patio that served as a meeting place. She didn’t quite understand the purpose of these assemblies, but most of the time they appeared like a sermon. She couldn’t see very clearly what they were about, for people there would form a tight circle with their backs to her vantage point. However, sometimes their fervent pleas would echo in a form of peculiar buzz.

One night, she awoke to said sound and a sense of foreboding. She chanced a look outside the window and automatically froze in place. It was late at night and a crowd of zombie-like figures was headed in one direction, their eyes steely and unblinking. She was scared they’d notice, so she plastered herself to the wall and watched them from an angle.

She almost screamed in surprise at the voice that resonated startlingly close to her. She had forgotten how stealthy her kidnapper could be and also she didn’t hear the click of the door in her concentration to find out what was happening outside. Apart from that, she expected him to be among the crowd.

“What are you doing?”

“You were away,” she remarked truthfully. She remembered his dislike for times when her attention wasn’t focused on him, so she gazed at him with wide eyes. She hoped he wouldn’t question her behaviour right now.

“Yes, I needed to get a couple of things. You see, we’re having a procedure in a short while and you’re the main subject.”

Because of her deteriorating condition, it was increasingly problematic to tell the difference between the illusions she was maintaining to survive and her actual feelings. She was so invested in making him believe she was genuinely interested in him that it made something stir in her.

***

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” was all she could manage at his infuriating monologue. _Why is he saying this?!_

“It’s going to hurt a bit, but I’m sure you know why you have to remain conscious.” She shook her head wildly. He clicked his tongue and answered her like he was humouring a petulant child. “You need to be aware that I’m cleansing you, of course.”

Since his visit a few days before, she had been wondering what exactly awaited her. The words _procedure_ and _subject_ were rather specialised. Were they going to recruit her? But… She was still herself, right? They didn’t need anyone like that in their cult. She didn’t have any respect towards these broken figures, so when two of them appeared at her door to take her somewhere, she tried to put up a fight. They didn’t bother to blindfold her this time because she ended up in the room she had been brought to before. And, just like then, she had been laid on an operating table, restraints secured around her hands and legs. She expected drugging but didn’t know how much more she could take before permanently losing herself to the daze.

 “I’ll root all the evil out of you until nothing is left but perfection,” he said, his voice dripping with twisted devotion. She let out a blood-curdling scream, barely recognising her own voice anymore. “You will learn to bend and accept the grace I’m bestowing upon you. And if you break… This is fine, too. I’ll be taking good care of you.”

He brushed hair off her face affectionately. He hovered over her and watched her intently, glee written all over his features. Determined to wipe the smirk off his face, she finally snapped. She mustered all the strength in the last part of her body she had under control and spat at him with every inch of vicious intent. She had immediately regretted it when his expression became solemn. She would have preferred if he did something conspicuous, like cackling maniacally or bursting with anger. She felt crippling anxiety well in her gut at the thought that perhaps he had something different in store for her. She didn’t have the time to think about it because of what happened next.

“Ahh, but… Indeed, I’m getting ahead of myself. Guess what I was trying to say is that I’m going to take your eye!”

If there was a single thing left to achieve in life, it would be to get away from his fingers. And, as much as she wanted to look the other way, her gaze fixed on his every move, as if she couldn’t help but watch her fate unravel before her. She stared at him in disbelief and blurted out the first conclusion she reached after processing the information.

“I don’t want to be blind! I’m begging you!” _He doesn’t get it!_ This was a misunderstanding that could have grave consequences if she failed to stop him. She started wriggling and twisting in the restraints, nothing specific in mind, just the sheer will to break free. _There is no time!_

 “I’m not taking your good eye! For the love of… Stop squirming!” He smashed his hand on a metal tray that was located near the table. “I have the tools to keep you still. See that object right here? It’s used for preventing the eye from closing itself. And this…” He motioned to something else out of her sight. “It’s for carv-”

“Nooo!” she cut him off with a shrieking wail.

“I’m trying to make it easier for you, so quit being a whiny brat and stay quiet. I need to focus.”

He pressed his thumb to the outer corner of her eye and positioned his index and middle fingers above the socket, pulling at the skin there, readying himself. Even though she momentarily froze at his previous words, she resumed her valiant efforts to escape his touch as soon as he started closing in on her. Her thoughts were an incoherent jumble; the instinct to preserve her body intact had taken over. Sadly, all it took for him to destroy her determination was to pin her in place by holding her head tight against the table, eliciting yet another anguished cry from her. At this point, she had no other choice but to submit to him again. When she couldn’t even toss her head from side to side, she kept screaming her lungs out, as this was the least she could do to express her plight. Fear coursed through her and she was tipped over the edge from the panic. The unresolved conflict between adrenaline fuelling her every movement and being immobilised almost caused her to spontaneously combust.

He didn’t succeed at the first try. Although he wore leather gloves to create more friction, her eyeball kept recoiling back into the socket. This part was tricky; he didn’t want to ruin her eye by squishing it, but at the same time he needed to grab firmly. After a few failed attempts, he used more force and although it was still gentle prying, it was like her head was going to explode from underwater-like pressure. His three fingers formed a claw and he tried to enclose them over her eyeball, making her feel like he was digging into her skull. The struggle made her eyes produce tears instantly and it was getting progressively difficult to achieve his goal. Finally, he applied enough pressure to force his fingers inside the socket with the intention to grip the eye from within and scoop it out.

The optic nerve had been severed from the brain with the most disgusting wet sound. A wave of nausea crashed over her and brought vomit to her mouth. Unable to hold in the pain, her body spasmed violently and she choked on the bile. It would be a horrifying experience for a healthy person, but it was especially distressing for her, since she never tried to touch, let alone disturb her damaged eye. The terror and extreme wrongness of this situation made her lose her mind. The feeling was indescribable and fit for a horror movie of the worst calibre, snapping latex gloves and fingernails scraping against the board, tenfold in sensation.

Her vision didn’t change; her eye had long been blind as a result of the accident she had mentioned to him. It didn’t matter, though, because pain permeated her whole head and radiated to the second eye, effectively blinding her. Sensory overload dulled her mind and she didn’t hear nor register the words he spoke.

“You’re going to have headaches for the next 24 to 36 hours. Normally, the pain is relieved with analgesics, but I’m sure you know why you’re not getting any. Consider it a punishment for your lack of cooperation.”

***

From the first day he brought her here, he knew that she held much potential. He had been watching her for a long time and he knew everything about her. He knew that she struggled in the indifferent world and that she fared better than most of the losers out there, some of them with much less severe conditions than her. He knew her whole medical history and that she had to deal with red tape in a country that simply refused to provide help. He knew that deep down she was pure and was contaminated only by external influence. The fire in her had been dampened, but it was all right, for he would use this confusion of hers to guide her to the light.

He was watching her right now. And, just like in the past, she wasn’t aware of it. For weeks the girl lay there, as delicate as a daisy, with a pressure bandage over the wound. She was clearly suffering, sobbing quietly and moving as little as possible, for refusing to keep still resulted in more pain. The sight was enchanting; it was as if she was sweating off the disease, not to be bothered by it ever again. She had been taking his treatment well, so he chose not to drug her more. In the ideal world, he wouldn’t have had to stoop to such crude methods at all, but it was a necessary step on the way to paradise. He was thrilled that he was able to tend to her. He never had a person he could pour his passion onto and he firmly believed that eventually she would care for him as well. Gouging her eye out truly was killing two birds with one stone: not only was it an excellent excuse to get her to be even more dependent on him, but also a thing that had to be done anyway. Her failed eye was a testament for the times that had shaped her like this and needed to be removed so as not to obstruct her true vision any longer. But, of course, he needed to be humble and acknowledge the fact that she was able to come to him owing to everything that had happened to her up to this point. Because, if not for this, then why was she so careless and desperate to reveal her address? Did she have no regard for her own safety? It would appear so. He knew that he should be grateful for the way she had turned out; now, she was the best candidate of them all and a promising material for him to fulfil his aspiration.

His careful prodding and patience would make her worthy of a place beside him and together they would continue to liberate even more damned souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shuffles awkwardly* Agh, yeah... Chapter 4 is going to be a lot 'calmer' than this, so I hope I haven't traumatised anyone. Until next time, then!


	4. Phantom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is Chapter 4, which means that we have only one more to go before the story is completed (excluding additional content). Gahh, this chapter is stylistically worse than what I was hoping for because the uni is killing me and I barely have time to write.

Despite the barbaric act itself, he tended to her surprisingly well during the recovery time. He regularly checked on her, carefully cleaned her socket from dried bloody tears, and made her take an antibiotic and a steroid daily to avoid infection. She was too weak to protest in any meaningful way, but the first time he tried to give her the meds, she lashed out, convinced that he was drugging her again. She almost suffocated and settled down only under the threat of her wound reopening. Whenever she complained of pain, or rather answered his questions affirmatively, he supplied her with non-blood thinning pain relievers. He also offered her more diversified food and reminded her not to rub her eyelid.

 _If he had intentionally hurt me, why would he be so meticulous with me now?_ Did it matter, though? The intrusive thoughts have been temporarily thwarted by the overriding need to stay warm and safe. The ache behind the socket and in the temple kept reappearing for about a month, but all the excruciating pain was gone. The rest: how she ended up here, who made her like this, what it took for her to pull through… It all paled in comparison to the immense relief that the pain was finally gone. She could breathe. Her weary mind could rest. Apart from all the torture, she felt much lighter. She used to be dependent on eye drops to ease the soreness of her irrevocably blind and scarred eye. Now she certainly was defective, but not damaged.

***

He put aside the brush he was using to tame her locks. She glanced at it and for a moment she felt like a thousand needles were raking her scalp. _No._ He was making a braid now, delicate and deft digits twirling through her hair. She ignored the whisper of thought that the same fingers had ripped her eye away. _No. It’s good that someone’s taking care of my hair. They always tangle._

“You’re healing nicely,” he remarked, inspecting the wound under the pressure band. The eyelid had sunken over the place her eye used to be. He didn’t seem to pay attention to the faint scars that formed on her skin after regular self-harm. She wasn’t sure if he didn’t actually see them or if he didn’t care because scars weren’t consequential to the image he projected on her.

For a long time, she didn’t open her eyes for fear of not seeing ever again. She also didn’t want to mark a new, albeit traumatising, moment in her life. She felt that if she tried to move forward like nothing had happened, there wouldn’t be a single person to acknowledge her suffering, even herself. The fate would never do her the justice she deserved. Living on was equal to accepting whatever he had planned for her.

While she desired to reclaim her independence, it quickly became apparent that she couldn’t go back to her previous status, as inferior as it already was. Something had changed in him, perhaps owing to the time he had spent caring for her. What started as the dislike for her divided attention had turned into pure possessiveness, although there was no living soul in sight who could be the subject of jealousy. He was fixed on the idea of doing everything for her, and the hope of running away, though pretty much non-existent at this point, was waning. His micromanagement of her actions was frustrating and unbearable, for he insisted on the things she could easily do herself. Maybe this would work if she was meek, but she’d always been a self-reliant and proud person, so being treated like a doll was a transgression against her most fundamental principles. This also resulted in more occasions to disobey and subsequently annoy him. She couldn’t decide what was worse: his overbearing presence or his gaping absence. When he stripped her of her self-agency like that, all she could do was hide and salvage the last sane part of her mind that didn’t belong to him.

At the same time, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. The lack of physical contact was bothering her, especially since he had no qualms about touching her. Every time he accidentally brushed his fingers over her skin, she needed to suppress a visible shudder, whereas he remained impassive. In spite of his attentiveness, he didn’t seem to notice a change in her attitude. She knew she probably should be grateful for this, but it was also oddly frustrating. Judging by his religious rambling, he would never acknowledge her yearning, let alone recognise her need. This wasn’t the heart of the issue, though; she was simply afraid of approaching him in any way.

She didn’t forget about her mission to escape, but her imbalanced perspective was yet another piece of the puzzle. She was stuck in a limbo between running for her life and waiting just a little longer, as if every hopeful second would make him more human and treat her as such. Before, she wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest, but now she was drinking in all the details. There was something imperceptible about him, an invisible wall dividing outward appearances from what really was inside. It didn’t feel like a mask, but something natural for his personality. _I can’t come closer._ Contradictory signals from him made her inherently suspicious of his every move, but more often than not she found herself reluctant to heed the warning.

Aside from his maniacal speeches and volatility, he actually wasn’t intimidating at all. Quite the contrary, there was something utterly alluring about his frail frame. He had a kind of injured innocence to him, as if he wasn’t aware of his own cruelty, which jarred with the rather deliberate way he spoke. At the same time, it only served to remind her how defenceless she grew against him. Even though she had been forcefully deprived of her freedom, she felt like an unwilling accomplice in making a marionette out of her mind and handing him the strings.

***

It had started so small that at first it was easy to ascribe it to a figment of her imagination. A blur of movement in the corner of her eye that wasn’t there when she turned around to investigate it. Shadows dancing on the wall which she stubbornly attributed to the play of light. She wondered if her brain had somehow been damaged in the procedure and the injury could possibly account for the visions. After all, she clearly wasn’t in her right mind earlier, delirious from the pain. She hadn’t even noticed that she had been moved again and was staying in his apartment now. Though generally impersonal, the place was painted in warm earthy colours. It allowed much more light from the outside, which otherwise would have been welcome, but not in the hypersensitive state she was in.

She was anxious to sleep in the vicinity of the captor, but it turned out that he would often retire for the night somewhere else. Usually he left her alone, but sometimes he assigned some woman to stay there for the duration of his absence. There was a certain individuality to her; one that wasn’t expected from anyone in this place. Maybe it was about her long blond hair that didn’t quite fit under the cowl of her robe and kept peeking out, like the sun struggling against the layer of clouds. More strikingly, she subjected everyone to rigorous scrutiny, as if she saw right through them and could tell what their dreams and fears were. _It would be a nice change if she wasn’t evil like the rest of the people here._

She found herself walking around aimlessly whenever she had the chance. Despite the fact that he cuffed her every time he left, after a few nights with nothing to do but stare at the wall, she noticed a long crack reaching the spot the shackle ring was built in. That made it loose enough to be removed and although the chain was quite heavy to carry, she was able to stretch her legs. However, she would quickly grow uneasy and come back to the corner of the room, plug the ring back in place, and pretend that nothing was out of ordinary.

Time flew past without her realising as she was taking advantage of her freedom like that, but she still resolved to be ready for his return. She had checked the time and looked at the clock again later, but the hour had stayed the same. She approached the clock, but it must have been working because she could hear the click of the mechanism and the blades were moving as always. Only when she blinked did she see that the numbers shifted and the blades fell to the bottom of the disc. They were back to normal in a blink, like they were playing tricks on her when she wasn’t looking. She heard a sneer.

It was harder to dismiss the hallucination in this instance as she simply wanted to keep track of time and yet couldn’t because of whatever it was that she saw. She wasn’t sure if her mind would be able to produce such specific visuals. It was too quick to see clearly, but the numbers appeared to be melting and the chuckle in her head made her wonder if the clock itself was laughing at her.

***

Yet, it wasn’t until she saw the ghost of her mother that she began worrying for real.

“You can have anything you want…” Her smile was benign and serene, just like she remembered. “For a price.” Her features changed, but remained depressingly familiar.

“No, no, no! Please don’t do that! I love you so much!” she cried out, heartbroken to see the twisted visage of her mother. She promptly followed when it moved.

The ghost went through the balcony door and appeared at the other side. She tugged at the handle, but the doors were locked. She suddenly felt like the fate of the world depended on her ability to access the balcony. From now on she decided to devote the time free of her captor to find a way to open the doors. She was devastated by the unexpected meeting; she had imagined seeing her parents again, but never like this. She started crying and slumped against the door, no longer caring what would happen if he came back and found her unshackled. _Why was Mum like this? This is it… Anything I lay my eyes upon becomes rotten inside out._

She couldn’t really tell what caused the downward spiral in her life, but considering how her parents were always there for her, that must have been it. Their death undermined her will, which she had always deemed to be strong. If there was a limit to suffering one could endure, it was definitely surpassed in her case. She knew that there were millions of people who had it worse, but comparing their hardships didn’t make her burden any lighter. She hadn’t noticed cracks in her smile until it was too late and they became an inherent part of herself.

It was like all tragic moments in life. Nobody had seen it coming and nothing could have been done to avert it. No amount of preparing could have ever made her ready for that. The natural order had always been that parents departed before their offspring, but this was a mere sentiment, one that meant nothing to her. Their absence was gradually being converted to all-encompassing sadness at the loss of someone that irreplaceable. The fatalism she had always felt deepened now that her ever-present backbone was no longer there. _Why? They were such good people. They were much better than me. Sometimes I think I didn’t deserve them. They should be here to see me do at least half of the things they achieved._ She always knew she wasn’t destined for greatness, but in the past she managed to accomplish her goals, owing to all the encouragement from her parents. If it hadn’t been for them, she wouldn’t have tried to find something she was good at. She pretended her life was going to lead her somewhere; somewhere light and abundant, for their sake. _I remember feeling bad for not taking a better direction in my life. But now I feel like no matter where I go, I’ll never have control. Even if I don’t come alive from this… Maybe it was always meant to end this way. Maybe I was never really free. Maybe he really wants to save me. Maybe he knows me? The way he looks at me makes me think that even if I disintegrated to mere atoms, he’d still recognise me. It makes sense. He truly gets mad at me only when I refuse to listen because he wants to guide me._ White-hot pain seized her and she yelped, although she’d been silent. _No! He’s going to hurt me again. I’m not human to him! A particularly disappointing specimen, that’s what I am._

Even when she had been bracing herself, she felt crippling anxiety slip its way through the wall of detachment she built around her unsteady mind. It was evident that the mental breakdown was approaching. She was so caught up in her ruminations that she didn’t notice that he had returned and was standing in front of her. She wailed pathetically at the hand that tried to pull her up. She remained on the floor instead and grovelled before him.

“Please… I just want the pain to stop,” she choked out, unable to say more. A thought flashed at the edge of her consciousness that she was finally addressing him like he was a functional person.

***

He brimmed with excitement when she almost crawled to his feet and looked up at him in some kind of desperate longing. Yes. She was the key. Not only she didn’t hide from him any longer but voluntarily asked for his assistance as well. For now he ignored the fact that she had somehow broken free and was roaming the flat.

He could tell she was almost ready. It only made him more nervous; the day of her complete conversion was nearing and the fear of failure grew along with it. He’d never been so close or hadn’t achieved so much with anybody. He vaguely remembered all the previous girls. He could no longer evoke their faces, but he recalled their general features and conduct. The blue-eyed blonde was the first and in his inexperience, he simply miscalculated. She wasn’t a good fit in the slightest, so he needed to dispose of her. The green-eyed redhead couldn’t shut up about her fiancé, so he choked her to death just to stop her mouth from spilling hurtful words. The dark-skinned girl with cat eyes tried to escape, but was brought back by the kind people that had been performing seasonal forest logging. He bribed them and the deal was that poor, all too easily broken girl ran away from a psychiatric ward. At last, there was a pink-haired college student who was good for nothing. That one really got under his skin, so he made sure her death was particularly gruesome. He remembered her bloodied unicorn shirt, a grotesque memento of her waywardness.

They all had one thing in common; they wanted to leave him. They behaved like he wasn’t enough for them. They didn’t even consider what he wanted to give them, those unappreciative little sluts. Cutting them down brought him fleeting satisfaction, which was soon to be replaced by terrible certainty of his own defeat. Previously the mere thought of those failed examples was enough to make him see red in fury, but now he had hope. This hope had a name and he watched her in her sleep, tossing and turning in bed, her brow furrowed in whatever kind of dream she was having.

As much as he had placed his trust in her after all they had been through together, there was a risk that she would refuse to believe him, especially this last time. In the end, it was an ultimate leap of faith. He couldn’t have dreamt about this with all the others and yet he wasn’t sure if they could have been able to scream any louder.

He wanted that special occasion to be perfect in every aspect, even the weather, but unfortunately it was raining as usual. Perhaps next day would be clear enough to see the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story, please don't hesitate to leave a review!


	5. Downfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 is here! Thank you guys for your ongoing support, especially since I've been feeling a bit burnt out lately. Every kudos and comment is giving me life and I couldn't have done it without you!

People have too many emotions. If the emotions could be visualised, they would be reflected by colours. Red, green, and blue were too vivid colours for him. He knew he was biased; he himself was morally grey at best and tar black at worst.

White is the strongest colour. It represents certainty. His perfect world would permit black and white only, yet unfortunately all those feelings and sensations mess everything up.

Empathy is the worst. It makes people weak-willed fools, slips through the cracks in the armour, and is as obnoxious as sizzling flesh. For him, compassion is just a waste of mental resources. It removes stinging clarity and replaces it with a sleazy smudge of colours.

The only colour he could allow was the brightness of an unblemished soul, ripe for the taking. He would take her soul, program it as he saw fit, and put it back. He knew it would be like winding up a mechanical toy. It was all right, though, because then the smile would never leave her face.

Just as he had witnessed his organisation fall from grace, he would also see it restored to its former glory. He was too radical for some people’s liking, and he was clever as well. He didn’t let himself be swayed by emotions and he was aware that this place needed a feminine touch.

***

“I know it’s not the best of solutions and I want you to be as free as a bird, but please wait a little more.” She didn’t know whether it was concern in his voice or not, and even if it was, it changed nothing in her new predicament. She looked at him from the other side of the cage; he seemed to be so close and yet so far at the same time. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

If he already wasn’t good at showing her who was in charge, he surely made her aware that her position could always become much worse. The extremely limited space of a birdcage was a new level of confinement she hadn’t expected. He succeeded in whatever he tried to prove, be it his mercy for keeping her in humane conditions or the suggestion that defiance would result in grave consequences. He wasn’t whimsical or unjust; he punished her only when she stepped out of line, which finally led her to believe that his actions were logical. Questioning his reasoning would bring her nothing but pain, whereas relinquishing her free will was sweet relief. It was so simple, even if it required her to stop fighting for herself. Perhaps it would be a little better from now on?

***

“Is there anything you’d like to confess?” He looked at her expectantly; he seemed to always be in tune with her thoughts and asked her to speak up in most sensitive moments. Reflecting on what she had been thinking earlier, she mustered all her courage and approached the bars, wrapping her fingers around them. She must have been bold to seek contact with him like that, but at the moment it felt like the right thing to do.

“I can see it now. I can see how much this is important to you.”

“Good.” He smiled. “And for that reason, you deserve a treat. Let’s continue to show you staying here will be beneficial for both sides.” He produced a set of keys and opened the cage. She noted the keychain comprised keys of different shapes and purposes, so maybe among them was the one she needed.

“You seemed to be interested in the balcony. Would you like to see it from the outside?”

She nodded her head slowly. Still a bit startled, yet determined, she passed the threshold of the cage. He hummed and considered her for a while. Panic shot through her as her brain started to scan over all the options where she had possibly done something wrong. Didn’t she ask for permission to leave? Should she have looked down? Could he tell she didn’t trust him? He didn’t do anything abrupt and held out his hand so she could see it. She tensed and almost recoiled from his hand, which travelled to a stray wisp of hair that covered the pressure band. He stroked her forehead gently; his touch lingered on her skin longer than it would normally feel, even when he pulled away.

Two things struck her at once when she was permitted on the balcony. Fresh air whooshed into her lungs, as if choking grasp was released from her throat, though she merely took one breath. She didn’t realise they were at such an incredible height, as the only glimpse of the outside so far had been an occasional look through the window. The view was bleak; below in the district, there was no greenery whatsoever, so she couldn’t determine the time of the year, or she had grown so apathetic that all the seasons appeared the same to her. Still, it made her wonder how long she had actually been there. She barely recalled her resolution to count every day and failed to remember when she had stopped. It probably would be more fitting to deduce the passage of time from the condition of her body and mind, but they offered no clues. Aside from the inescapable facts, such as her missing eye, she was unable to spot any differences. The need to rationalise the situation desensitised her to any permanent changes she might have undergone. The only conclusion she reached was that her abduction must have taken place ages ago and that her previous life couldn’t have felt more distant.

“We’re on the 14th floor,” he explained, noticing her confusion and forcing her back to the immediate reality. “I have one more place to show you. I believe you will become a permanent resident soon, so there’s no point in keeping any secrets now. Here, this is my study.” He led her to a door at the end of the corridor, which was locked the last time she checked during her escapades. Delight that resounded in his voice belied the sight before her.

The room certainly was neglected; particles of dust drifted in the air when the door flied open, allowing a gust of wind inside. In the centre, a wide desk sagged under a load of papers, a line of telephones, and a closed laptop. The chair stood at a peculiar angle, as if someone violently shoved it aside. A garment cover was draped over the chair. There was a rickety bookshelf, with some of the tomes overturned on the floor. The place was minimalistic; nothing hinted at a personality of its occupant. The only object that could be regarded as distinguished was the standing clock, excluding its broken disc, the mechanism clicking erratically. She refused to look at it, for clocks weren’t exactly her friends as of late. The room seemed long abandoned, fingerprints in the most used places being the only sign that someone had been here.

The captor walked over to the desk and picked up a folder from the top of the pile. She gasped at the sight of her own face in the photo tucked in one of the files. There was a whole column with her personal information, such as her habits and a schedule of her day, precise to the minute. Before she could contemplate this reminder of her forgotten routine, another detail caught her attention.

 _606_. Was her name a number now? It took her a while to evoke her own name and even in her thoughts it seemed strangely unfamiliar. As if to try to make it more real, she whispered it under her breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“I see. But know this, you don’t have to hide anything from me. I hope you remember that.” The last sentence was spoken with a warning edge. “As you could have seen in the balcony, the district is not complete. That is because our project has failed. You’re going to help me put this place back in operation, so that’s why it’s high time I introduced some of the things to you.”

This made much more sense. He was proud of the study room because it must have been the operating centre during the glorious days of this institution.

“Hmm.” For the second time that day, he seemed to be assessing her and thinking to himself. He offered no further explanation apart from a knowing smirk that sent a shiver down her spine. “Before you come back to your cage, change into this.” He picked the cover from the chair and handed it to her. “I’ll go get you soon.”

The dress was simple, the colour of old gold, with a satin bow at the chest. She absently traced her fingers across the bow and wondered what it meant. Was it a gift? A token? A token of something she refused to consider. What exactly had he been planning again?

***

“Come, I’ll be good to you.” There was a fire of conviction in his eyes that she didn’t understand. It could only mean one thing. The pain would come again. _The pain will never end._

As soon as he had locked the cage and left the apartment earlier, the gravity of the situation started to weigh heavily on her. She donned the dress as instructed and wondered if it belonged to any of the previous girls of whom she caught a peek in the files. He spoke almost venerably about the incoming occasion, which had stirred her already racing imagination. She started panicking even before he came to collect her and was a mess when he returned.

“Stressed out? I understand. I’m happy to see that you’re treating it seriously.”

“Are we going to the white room?” she asked in a small voice. She wasn’t aware she had been panting and that her eyes had glassed with tears. He flashed her a toothy grin and laughed wholeheartedly.

“No, dear. Not this time. Tonight you’re the audience, but I’m hoping for a bit of your active participation as well.”

They exited his apartment and descended the stairs. There were no electric lights on the walls, bulbs replaced by oil lamps that bathed the stairway in dim light. She followed him for a while in silence and entered after him. The floors and doors were not numbered and it looked like he had picked at random, so he must have memorised the destination some other way. The flat didn’t have a layout like the places she had been to so far, with a corridor and doors leading to other rooms. Instead, it was one room only without windows. In the centre stood two chairs with restraints at ankles and armrests, facing each another. One of the chairs was occupied by a young-looking cloaked woman, ropes already secured around her limbs. She might as well have been gagged because she made no sound, even in this compromising position.

Considering her own experiences, she wondered how much it had taken for him to beat obedience into the people in this insane and extreme place. Resignation circulated in her blood, but he couldn’t have stripped her of the instincts that governed her body in such situations. She went rigid when he moved abruptly and came up to the tied woman.

“Smile.” He tugged playfully at her cheek. “You want to give the lady here a proper welcome to our humble manor, am I right?”

The woman gave a strained, sardonic smile. Despite her inarticulacy, her fear was so palpable that the newcomer wanted to jump out of her own skin to show the girl she understood her.

“Sit.” He snarled in the direction of the door. She took the seat opposite of the woman, restraints rattling ominously at the sides of her chair.

“What should I do to her first?” He motioned to the tray with all manner of metal utensils, such as pincers or scissors, all of them dangerous and razor-like. She felt something drop and settle uncomfortably in her stomach. _So this is what he meant by me being the audience…_ She looked at the woman, suddenly terrified to be the one who got to decide about her fate. She didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s pain.

“No, I don’t want to hurt her,” she tried to reason with him.

“You’d better make haste, or I will choose for you and we will proceed straight to what I think is most fun.”

She grimaced and pointed reluctantly to an unassuming wooden wedge, hoping that it would be least painful, but his reaction seemed to suggest otherwise.

“An excellent choice! I knew you had it in you!” he guffawed, eliciting a first reaction from the woman. She raised her head to see the weapon and groaned painfully, as if she already knew what was coming. Aside from this, though, she was unresponsive, as if she had lived through it all.

He grasped the woman’s hand and reached for the tray. In a blink, he took the wedge and drove it under the nail of her index finger. The woman shrieked, the sound all the more maddening since it was the first time she had opened her mouth.

Before she managed to recover from the shock caused by the consequences of her choice, the captor addressed her again.

“So, how about a little of that women’s solidarity we all know and love so much?” He purred in a nauseating fashion, clearly enjoying himself. “Do I need to shackle you or have you learned your lesson?” She didn’t have time to formulate an answer because he repeated the swift motion he used with the woman. She screamed from the searing pain that invaded her consciousness, millions of neurons firing at once.

“Should I defile her?” With that, he grabbed the front of the robe and yanked the woman upwards, buttons threatening to spill. A new kind of horror overtook her; she knew what he meant by that and she wouldn’t wish it to the worst enemy, let alone to some poor girl, who was just a mere tool in _her_ ritual. “It’s all for you. She should be honoured that she’s part of this.”

She was confused; she’d never seen him like this. His cool and somewhat dignified demeanour was gone. He was slouched and had a maniacal frenzy written all over his features. Just when she had thought she could press on, averting untold misery by figuring out his behaviour, he displayed a completely different side of him.

“No, stop! Please don’t-…”

“Shut up. I’m going to need this anyway.” He tore the robe, revealing a worn-out bra. The woman sought to cover herself, unwittingly exposing her arms. “Don’t worry. The only touch of the saviour she deserves is this…” He produced a thin, curved blade and pressed it down one of her bare shoulders. “Don’t struggle! They need to be even,” he drawled in concentration.

The captor readied himself to make the second cut, perpendicular to the first one, forming two edges of a square. He was interrupted by a prolonged yell of the second woman, the one that was forced to watch. The sight before her was being tattooed on the inside of her eyelids. Evil glared right back at her, altering the structure of her thoughts forever.

“Snap out of it!” He delivered a rousing slap to her face. Heat bloomed in the spot and spread through her skin after the hit. “I’m going to be lenient because you’ve done good so far, but focus on her, not me!”

He resumed his work and added the cut he had intended, ending it with a satisfied twirl of the blade in the air. “I’ve always thought that art required certain cruelty. The frailty of human body never ceases to astound me. Simply useless, though at least flesh is the perfect canvas. I can work with it, reversing this failed case of human biology. You both should be grateful for either allowing me to give your existence meaning or having a chance to witness the process.”

He must have disoriented both women with his musings because they clearly were not expecting what happened next. He grabbed the patch of skin, flaying half of the incomplete square, ignoring the agony of his victim. The girl no longer sounded human; her shouts resembled a wounded animal, whining for mercy.

She squeezed her eyes shut, although she had already managed to see what was beneath. The sight of red and blood attacked her senses, making her weak in the knees. No one should have to see it, this vulnerability of bared flesh that belonged under the protection of skin.

“Don’t look away! You know what I will do if you don’t look.” He levelled the blade with her face and brandished it threateningly at the level of her eyes. She instinctively sprang backwards and spoke up, determined to get her message across.

“Please, don’t do this to her! It is me you want, not her. She doesn’t have to suffer,” she whispered, observing the woman, who sobbed quietly and twisted her hands in the restraints.

He didn’t listen to her and muttered to himself. “Yes, that’s what I thought.” His gaze wandered to the unused shackles at her chair. “Well, we’re going to use these for the next thing.”

A treacherous spark, the mixture of wrath and defiance, ignited in her. She was done with his nonchalance. She lunged at him and pushed him, but he recovered in time to keep his balance.

“FUCK YOU!”

It had been some time since she felt such seething rage. He showed her a whole new dimension of helplessness by making her witness the ordeal of a woman that wasn’t herself. He shoved her back to the chair, this time making sure to bind her tightly.

“We can play all you want later. I’m not done here yet.” He answered her in the same infuriating tone, but to her surprise, he had then dropped the act startlingly quick. “Now, now. This night is going to be longer than I have assumed if you fail to understand that it won’t pay off to defend her like that. She’s just expendable crowd, while it is you who deserve a place beside me, so act accordingly.”

Not only was he mocking her empathy but tried to make her feel disdain towards another human. He picked another tool from the tray and directed his complete attention towards her, ignoring the injured girl.

“Remember, it’s either you or her. A word is enough.”

He slowly approached her with a blowtorch in his hand, granting her time to make her mind. When she remained silent, he frowned and used the blowtorch to scorch her shoulder, the one corresponding to the flayed arm of the woman. Flames licked her skin, escalating fast and introducing her to new spikes of pain, which she had never ever feared to experience in her life. The smell of burning flesh caused her to retch and she felt the rush of blood in her ears.

“Say it!” Impatient voice wrestled her from her stubborn trance.

“No…,” she drawled through gritted teeth, her jaw clenched so hard that it went numb. She didn’t want to scream and give him the satisfaction. She jerked in the restraints, the inability to get away bringing back the all too familiar desperation. The pauses that granted her momentary respite from the pain were getting shorter, her brain relentless in reminding her to move out of the danger’s way. _Stop the pain. Stop the pain. Stop the pain._

Whenever he damaged the nerves to the point that she stopped feeling, he moved to another spot, repeating the cycle. After a moment of her heroic resistance, he focused on one place in particular. The flame of altruism that had enabled her to endure this torment was beginning to fade.

“Say it!”

“Not me!” She broke and wailed, her resolution to withstand the pain long forgotten. Her own voice, raspy from the yelling, sounded foreign to her.

“SAY IT!” He followed, furious that she refused to speak the words that would finalise the verdict.

“HER, NOT ME!” As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt the undertones of guilt, but ending the pain was her priority now. She looked at the woman with half-lidded, bleary eyes, her stare pleading forgiveness. The other cowered in fear, not meeting her gaze. _This isn’t fair, she’s already had enough, but I can’t take this…_ Prickling tears streamed down her cheeks.

“See? This wasn’t so bad. You did her a favour! I’m going to call someone to stitch her up. She’ll recover in no time. Ahh, I knew that we needed a breath of fresh air in this place. She’s going to remember you as the most merciful here and will worship you before long!”

Why did he just stop? Wasn’t he going to hurt the woman in her stead? After all that coercion, he just shrugged it off, as if nothing had happened. She couldn’t fathom the disgusting manipulation he practised. She was drained, both mentally and physically, and felt she was going to collapse any minute now.

***

“I have one more test for you. I’m not too worried because judging by your performance today, I believe it will be a formality.” He was visibly excited when he escorted her back to his flat. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll arrange everything.” She was rooted in place from the mere words. Every time he was that cheery, it meant all the appalling atrocities for her, especially since it had turned out she hadn’t seen everything of him.

Her mind didn’t manage to go back to its addled state just yet, so with some concentration, she remembered her goal. This was her chance. He was quite confident to leave her like that, did he think she already belonged to him? He had never been so reckless in her presence before; he even left his keychain behind.

She clasped her hands tightly to her ears in hopes of muting the voices that had been born of the woman's screams. Intense paranoia and restlessness felt like they were going to crack her skull open. In a daze, she looked down and was relieved to see that her hands were still there. As much as he controlled her mind, now she had a physical proof that her situation was not improving. The shoulder hurt with every slight move and was littered with blisters. However, her arm was just the beginning. He would stop at nothing until her very soul became disfigured and charred.

She didn’t know what to make of the appearance of her mother earlier, but now she was sure that the ghost had been beckoning her. She looked at the balcony doors and was struck with an epiphany. It was like she saw the light, like all the answers flew into her head and sorted out in there. She knew precisely what she had to do; she grabbed the keychain and made her way to the balcony. If she reached the door and opened it, everything would be all right again. She wouldn’t have had to suffer any longer. If she stayed here, the only comfort she would ever get was whenever she healed after he had put her through unspeakable torture. She would never relax. She would never be comfortable near him. Her desperation to escape was never going away.

That day was one of the rarest days the sky was not covered by a blanket of clouds. The breeze cleared her thoughts, her mind already revelling in the incoming freedom.

***

She was growing hesitant when a seemingly stray thought appeared. _You can release yourself but the only way to go is down._ She didn’t even register the strength she needed to push herself off the balcony.

She was glad. Any minute now, she would be free of the life that never failed at spitting her in the face. She was startled at how sharp and cool her mind was, but then again, this was what she had always wanted. Once she heard that people who commit suicide actually regret the deed during falling. She was startled by this too, while uncertainty welled within her. She tried to repress it, just like someone would repress crippling fear before taking a difficult exam.

She was calm. She didn’t feel the pull or the speed of her fall. Nonetheless, what was certainly true about her last moments was her whole life flashing before her very eyes. She saw her parents and felt strangely ecstatic at being so close to reuniting with them, which made her desire to end it all the more enticing.

***

How rude of her to leave in such a manner. How ungracious of her to leave when everything was almost ready. He pulled at his hair when he felt a throe of rejection. He didn’t understand it. She seemed agitated recently, but he attributed it to the stage fright before the ritual.

Another pang hit him as inadequacy slowly creeped over him. No matter. He would fulfil his purpose. He would find another.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is how the story ends... Kinda abrupt, right? If you didn't like this particular ending, worry not! Chapter 6 is on the way and it is going to be an alternative ending, in which the main character hadn't done what she did here in Chapter 5. There will be smut because I think this story could use some sex, lol.


	6. Becoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an alternative ending to the story. It picks up where Chapter 5 left off and explores the narrative of what would happen if MC underwent a second test.

A peculiar kind of peace shrouded her mind like a swirling fog. She felt nothing. She had worried about the woman, but the captor had been so adamant everything would be fine that she eventually believed him.

She was closer than ever to reaching some undefined goal. He was going to carry out a second test soon, yet she was too exhausted to feel scared. She came to terms with the fact that there was no way in which she could be prepared for him. Nonetheless, his guidance had done her good so far, so would it hurt to just follow him one more time? Perhaps then she would belong in here and bid farewell to aching loneliness, her only companion until now.

***

A couple of days had passed since she last saw her captor, which was strange, considering how he had told her to wait. She didn’t want to wait. She didn’t want to be caught up between running and staying anymore, having abandoned all hope of escaping. Remaining a hostage made no sense at this point, so she might as well become a permanent citizen.

She couldn’t be certain of anything regarding the captor and thus she just assumed he had somehow deemed it important to make her wait like that. Perhaps he thought she needed to rest after all she had endured, as ironic as it might have been.

When he finally came along, she was almost eager to follow him. He led her to his study, telling her how he had been preparing the rest of the ceremony for her. At a glance the room didn’t change much, aside from a mattress that was added in the corner. Moonlight seeped through the curtains, creating a faint aura of mystery. Shadows danced on the furniture, the desk and the bookshelf appearing differently than in daylight. Irregular but soft click of the clock was unusually soothing at this hour. The room seemed to be a living, albeit silent, witness and judge.

For a moment he just stood there, his eyes a stunning contrast to the surrounding darkness. Two glowing orbs bore into her when a flicker of emotion crossed them. Without so much as a warning he gathered her in his arms and embraced her. She froze in place; it took a longer moment for her brain to register this new kind of touch that didn’t hurt. After all, she was expecting pain and the ambiguity of this situation made her skin crawl. He started rubbing circles at her lower back and blew hot air across her ear. As much as she had always been able to distinguish his intent, it was never sexual in nature. Why would he attempt anything with her right now? Did he even perceive it like all people do? He was too disturbed for that.

He brought her to the mattress. She was befuddled but aware of him sinking his fangs into her and infecting her with his venom. How long would it take to get the poison out of her system? She was being wrapped in a cocoon, pincers of a spider clicking menacingly near her ear. She couldn’t move. At least it was natural; she was a victim and this fight wasn’t for her to win. _He’s going to use my body again._ Panic flashed in her eyes at the thought of being subjected to some sort of blasphemous ritual. He lowered her to the floor.

It was the first time he had shed clothes before her and she noticed the black lines of a tattoo on his arm. She didn’t have time to inspect it because he grabbed her chin and made her look him in the eyes, with a little more force than necessary. His voice trembled, as if it was a stressful moment for him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he said reverently.

She braced herself as he got closer, but still yelped in surprise when he pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. She looked at him, deep yearning imprinted in her irises that didn’t manage to go away in time. He noticed it and smirked. _Finally I can stop thinking_ , a small voice said in her head when he was on her lips again, longer this time. He pulled back and gazed at her, as if he wanted to nonverbally ask her permission. He was skilled at pretending; he would have done it either way because it was necessary, no matter how it made her feel, although it would have been more satisfying if she submitted. Before her fears recovered, he lunged at her again. She squeezed her eyes shut as he kissed her neck. It helped a bit; she felt like she was in the lover’s embrace instead of the grasp of a fanatic.

He wasn’t impatient or rough, which was yet another thing she wasn’t expecting that night. He watched her intently, as if he couldn’t bear to miss a single reaction of hers. He waited for her, his fingers ghosting over her skin, but still exploring. _What do I do? Even if I say no, it won’t change a thing, or will make it even worse._ She wouldn’t have agreed to it if she had a choice, but she still could make it less unpleasant for herself. _This can be my decision too. For once I can control my own fate._

She let herself melt into his touch and he smiled at her, content with her responsiveness. Had she truly passed the point of no return? In the end, she had been quietly desiring this for some time. It wasn’t like she was going to see another man ever again. He was the only one left for her, so she desperately clung to him, as if she wanted to anchor herself in this new reality. She shut out her thoughts because when she paid them her mind, she could sense disgust calling her out.

“Shh, it’s alright. I won’t hurt you. There is nothing to fear.” There was a strange, feverish twinkle in his gaze. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that as much as he wanted to lead her, he was enjoying her discomfort.

Last vestiges of dread left her when he stripped her down. He could see her consternation, but his movements were decisive and final, making her surrender any control she had left. He lingered in the area around her sex and massaged delicate flesh there. This closeness initially startled her, but she readied herself in time for when he inserted one finger into her. He felt foreign inside, which sent her mind into the state of renewed alarm. She was so shocked and pent-up that she couldn’t utter a proper sound. All that slipped her mouth were small whines and moans.

“You really are fragile,” he remarked offhandedly. “Relax. It will get better.”

It hurt. It was normal after all this time, but she still was mad at herself for expecting otherwise and hoping he would inflict no pain. She was clueless. She wouldn’t learn. But it hurt, and the fact that this pain was not for him to cause hurt even more.

It took a longer while to prepare her, but he was endlessly patient with her to the point that he seemed calculating. No matter how asexual and impersonal she wanted to keep it, she was reacting to his touch far too strongly than she would have liked. She was reluctant to admit that even in this intimate moment, he knew what he was doing. He pressed all the right buttons, coaxing a muffled cry out of her as she clenched around the digit. As soon as she accommodated to this intrusion, he added more fingers, not leaving room for discussion and dispelling any remaining doubt about what was to come afterwards. Stinging ache was being gradually replaced by conflicting emotions. _I shouldn’t be enjoying what he is doing to me… Not like this._ Her body betrayed her; she was getting lost in this sickening desire.

She was in denial of the fact she had been anticipating his next move. She was sweating and gasping for breath, already tired with this sudden exposure. Hot and bothered, she twisted in the sheets while he loomed over her like an unwavering, monolithic figure.

“Come on. I know you want this. Indulge me.” He hissed and sucked the air in through gritted teeth. This was the only sign of his own arousal, for his actions remained measured and controlled.

The thought that all of that wasn’t an expression of love or lust on his part sent a jolt of pain through her. She wanted to spit it out in his face, but she knew that all she would ever get in return was misunderstanding and violence. _Learn to bend and not break…_ She didn’t have time to fall into the pit of despair when he finally pushed into her. She yielded under his oppressive presence, but at least she had managed to forget about her earlier fears. The first scream that escaped her was shy and strained. She wasn’t yet sure if it was a safe place to be, if it was all right for her to do this.

Every thrust minimised her confusion, but one nagging thought prevented her from unwinding completely. She still believed she should be feeling pain instead and that it was wrong to be on the receiving end of pleasure. She was immeasurably grateful for his unpredictable and quickened pace that scattered her intrusive thoughts. The closer she got, the less she cared about potential undesirable implications of the ceremony.

She scrambled for purchase and her hands landed on his arms. She clawed at his shoulders, the motion that would have been erotic in a different scenario. His breath was getting increasingly ragged while she loosened up, allowing the panic to subside. She wanted to experience something positive at last, the taste of ecstasy and release long forgotten. Sheer will and determination to feel good was enough to tip her over the edge. She let out a defeated whine, her legs trembling in aftershocks. She had been able to ignore the captor for once, which only added magic to the moment. He was saying something, but she already drifted off.

***

She gazed at him longingly. Now that she thought they were somehow connected, she could see how his stare truly was cold and unforgiving, in spite of all his ardour. _That’s right. Nothing had changed._ This terrifying person was not going anywhere. She broke eye contact, willing to forget she had offered her body and soul to a fiend.

Her heart swelled with relief when he scooped her closer to him. He stroked her hair awkwardly, as if unaccustomed to the gesture, and she sighed, finally letting go. Her thoughts cleared and slowed down for the first time in forever. She thought that if achieving this state required giving herself to him then perhaps it was worth it.

“I brought you a gift…,” he whispered and pointed to the desk.

Her eye was smaller than the other one even before it was gouged out. Although well preserved, it had shrunk further in the jar. It was discoloured with a grey veil over the pupil.

She ignored the build-up of emotions. He knew better. He removed the part that had made her imperfect. Thanks to him, her life was beginning anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, guys. This whole business with alternative endings may be confusing, so I think a little explanation will be helpful. I designed this story to resemble an in-game character route we know from Mystic Messenger and other otome games. So, there is a true, normal, good, and a bad ending. While Chapter 7 definitely is a bad ending, it's up to you to decide what Chapter 5 and 6 are; which is normal and which is good. I'm curious of your opinions!


	7. Silk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this chapter was supposed to be up a week ago, but what can you do when life happens.  
> Continuing the thing with alternative endings, this one here is a bad ending. Please note that it doesn’t happen after the story ends (Chapter 5), but rather branches off when MC tried to escape in Chapter 2. I will put a relevant excerpt from Chapter 2 for the ease of reference.  
> Trigger warning: If you didn’t already think that this story is messed up, Chapter 7 is where things really do get ugly. If you are sensitive to any of the following themes, please don’t read the chapter.  
> Tags for this chapter: rape/non-con, verbal and physical humiliation, degradation, derogatory language, bladder control, come eating, vomit, drug addiction, mentions of force feeding and gang rape

( _This was enough. She knew this was precisely what he aimed at and that she shouldn’t let his words get to her, but it didn’t matter. The knowledge that he would do anything he wanted to her was driving her insane. All emotions came rushing to her and she started running in the most promising direction, which didn’t prove to be a rational decision at all. She ventured off the path on a faint trail where the trees grew denser. Stray sprigs stuck in her hair and slashed her face as she continued unencumbered. Everything was a blur as she ran, but she could see a clearing before her, a brighter spot so distinct from the darkening forest._ )

She didn’t know how far and long she had run, but when adrenaline wore off, she almost collapsed from exertion. She surveyed her surroundings, leaning on the nearest tree. Trepidation was beginning to affect her, so she focused on finding a place to survive the night, as the forest was inexorably getting cold and dark. She saw faint light peeking through the trees and she resolved to head towards it. Perhaps in different circumstances she would laugh at her predicament; she sought help from whoever that lived in the house in the middle of the woods. As questionable as it might have been, she had no other plausible option. She emerged in the proximity of the building and looked around cautiously. The hut appeared to be inhabited because various articles of everyday use were scattered about the entrance. Glancing nervously to the sides, she came up to the door and knocked sharply. Every second without answer made her want to flee, but soon enough the door opened, revealing a short figure.

She realised she hadn’t considered what she was going to say. “Please… I need help…” She stumbled forward as if she just completed a marathon, straight into the arms of a confused, elderly woman.

“Oh, my poor dear. Whatever shall I do with you? What happened?”

Without a second word, the woman removed the ruined boots of a newcomer girl and led her inside. Still on edge, she scanned the interior while the old lady pottered about the kitchen and chirped happily, as if a beloved granddaughter visited her. She opened her mouth to thank the woman, but the other just shushed her with wave of the hand.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re living so deep in the forest. You see, my husband is a lumberjack and it’s just better to stay here when he needs to work. He’s off to do some, ahem, cutting right now, but will be back in a flash.” The woman made another flamboyant gesture and shrugged, clearly seeing the need to explain herself.

When the cauldron was taken off the flame, she revelled in the taste of steaming stew and ate in silence. Simultaneously with her strength returning, she could feel a thick blanket of exhaustion fall on her consciousness. The only thing she was able to do with her suddenly leaden legs was to let the woman take her to the alcove.

“Rest, my lovely. Rest until your guardian angel comes and gets you.” For some reason, the religious symbolism of the statement caused hair to rise on the back of her neck. However, she was too tired to give any further thought to it and before she knew, she plunged into dreamless slumber.

***

She jerked awake with an unpleasant sensation that her getaway was far from over. Everything would be fine, she assured herself. She would ask about making a phone call, contact her loved ones and even the police, and would safely go back home. Her life would return to normal in a blink and maybe she would finally see a therapist, something she had been delaying for far too long.

She opened her eyes but didn’t see the wooden bars of the hut’s roof, just the white ceiling. She wanted to move and lift her hands, yet the remainder of the previous strain weighed her limbs down. Her muscles were unresponsive and the only answer she got was the sinister rattle of the restraints.

“No, no, no…”

“Shh, don’t sweat it. You need to rest. You had quite a run yesterday.” The voice of her captor broke her heart in half. Why? She was so close to getting out. “I’m sure you wanted to see your friends, but it so happens I have friends as well.” She looked at him with wide eyes when she realised what he was talking about. She’d been betrayed; he owned everything and everyone here.

“You’ve made me very, very disappointed,” he drawled, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. He tripped over his words, which was peculiar, because normally he was highly eloquent. His unlikely tenderness was gone for good, replaced with immeasurable scorn and anger. “If you refuse to listen then I will find a different use for you.” His face split in two with a pleased sadistic grin that could only betray the blackest nightmares that she would dream from now on.

He released her, only to shove her to the floor and unclasp his pants. She let out a demented scream and jerked in his hold, but he jammed her head into the mattress. After a treacherous pause, she heard a snicker.

“You really are braindead if you think this is going to be that easy for you. You will stay here forever in an endless loop of suffering, that’s what you deserve, you heretical whore.”

***

She sighed heavily as the silent believer exited the room, leaving behind a neatly folded pile of clothes. She looked over the set and saw it was one of his favourites: a blue off the shoulder blouse and a white polka dot skirt. It meant one thing; he was in _that_ mood again. She wasn’t feeling very good, either. She didn’t know how much she could take this time. In these instances, he was always gentle with her at first, which merely foreshadowed cruelty, exceptional even for him.

She changed into the clothes and gave a brief glance at the abandoned bra. Sometimes he would be excruciatingly slow in undressing her, nearly driving her to the edge with all the apprehension. More often than not, however, he stripped her in seconds without a word and every redundant piece of clothing made him increasingly irritated and impatient. She didn’t want to take any undue risk, so she wore the blouse directly on her naked skin. She walked to the mirror to check everything one last time.

Her always long hair barely fringed her face now. Somehow she remembered that day more clearly than other.

“You think you can be so daring with hair like this? We should have cut you short the minute you showed up on our doorstep! You’re lucky the master likes it and says that just a trim is enough, otherwise you would be bald by now.” Malignant voices had spat at her, cackling and wild, as if they belonged to hyenas, waiting to tear her apart.

The only thing that her stubborn defiance had brought her was how her hair had turned grey prematurely. A single strand of her natural colour remained at the front. She stared at her features in the mirror, but couldn’t recall anything. There was no point of reference aside from the emotions that resurfaced every time her gaze fell at her different eye. It didn’t matter, though, for she would quickly silence the voice and resolve to never try to learn about herself again.

She splashed her face with water to rouse her spirits before going to meet her saviour. Instead, she winced from the cold and scolded herself for being out of form; if she didn’t focus then most probably she wouldn’t live to see another day.

***

He had been expecting her, leaning nonchalantly over the armrest of the throne. Nothing looked out of the ordinary apart from an empty bowl and a bottle near the legs of the chair. He motioned for her to come to him and sit on his lap. He lowered the sleeve of the blouse to reveal her breasts. He massaged them slightly for a moment and she had to keep herself from shifting. She knew better than to show the reactions of her body. Once she would express her arousal, he would taunt and mock her for the rest of the night till she believed she was truly enjoying this.

“You know, you broke my heart.” She froze in place. She was used to his musings, but at the same time she knew that usually his monologues propelled him to violate her in ways she had never seen coming. “You could have been so special to me. There’s still this lingering feeling, ah, because I think I should have thrown you away like the rest. Yes, those stupid, good-for-nothing little sluts. And yet, here you are, sleeping in the finest sheets. Tell me, would you be a good little slut for once? All the grace I had to offer you, all is now lost. The only thing remaining is my mercy, but are you even worthy of that?”

He spoke the words in a slow, hypnotic manner while continuing to knead her right breast. He pinched it hard and she jumped before she managed to collect herself. That day didn’t bode well for her.

He stripped unceremoniously to uncover his already weeping cock. The tip was shiny and glaring red, yet she hesitated. He was visibly excited, but if she proceeded to suck him off without misgivings, he would surely chastise her. Instead, she looked up, only to see him sneering down at her.

“If only you knew how pathetic you look right now, you would have killed yourself on the spot. If you need a clear message then knock yourself out. Suck my dick.”

She suppressed a shudder and involuntarily rubbed her legs together when she saw his cock twitch. She twirled her tongue along the shaft and almost closed her eyes, but caught herself at the last second. He groaned and she hoped that maybe it would be quick. As she was taking him to the hilt, he spoke out in ragged voice, but otherwise he hid his impressions well.

“Here we go. Give me that broad and warm smile.”

She moved to do as he said, but he snapped his hips forward, signalling her to remain in place. She then tried to smile as she was, straining to curve her lips upward, despite the obvious obtrusion. He laughed out loud hysterically.

“How stupid can you get? You can’t smile with your filthy mouth around my cock.”

That’s right. She indeed was stupid to hope for a little more ease. Her mind had reset the moment he was done for the day. Every subsequent torture felt brand new, no matter what she had lived through already.

“What are you doing? Don’t stop. Do I have to guide you like a half-blind loser you are?”

The tears that prickled at the corner of her eyes were a result of either humiliation or his rapidly hardening penis. She braced herself and worked his length as expected of her, but got tired after a while. He gave her no respite, slamming his dick into her mouth, yet showing no signs of coming. She waved her hands to tell him it was too much. He paused, not to give her breathing room, but rather to offer another stinging remark that would otherwise sound less serious, when delivered in gasps.

“What’s the matter? Don’t act like you need more privileges than you already have. Perhaps it is me who needs to reconsider when you dare to make any demands.”

She opened her mouth to excuse herself, but only managed to let out a strained shriek. He grabbed her hair and resumed pounding her face, this time giving her minimal slack. She tried to breathe through her nose, but was quickly overwhelmed. Drool pooled on her chin as she sputtered, accompanied by his vicious laughter.

The ache at the back of her throat brought back the memories of a long time ago when she still believed she could make a difference. It turned out, however, how easily broken she was after they had force-fed her. Standing up for herself was not worth the traumatising experience of having a pipe forced down her gullet. She didn’t understand it then; food was meant to be a reward. She didn’t understand why they would keep her healthy and strong by making her eat even when she didn’t want to. Nonetheless, she no longer had trusted them to permit the slightest hope of being perceived as worthy of human dignity.

She readied herself when she felt his cock pulse. The first time she didn’t want to swallow, he had threatened to shoot his load in her good eye. She could recall the feeling of warm sperm streaking down her throat. This time he released her with a pop that invaded her ears and caused her to think such disgrace should not sound this lewd. When he came in the prepared bowl, she understood why he needed the container, but still didn’t know what to make of it. This was a new one; she dreaded to think what awaited her.

“Now show me you are a good little bitch and gobble it all up.”

After all that she’d been through, he would still find new methods to stimulate her numb mind. She remembered what he had told her the other day when he broke into one of his musings. _There are never enough ways to write you off. I need to remind you why you’re here._ And just like submission is beaten into a dog, she knew she existed only for him. There was nothing else left for her in life.

The texture was chunky and she retched when she felt granulated bits of semen on her tongue. In her drugged mind where everything blended together, the sensation reminded her of porridge she had for breakfast. The food imagery and her throat, oversensitive from all the pushing, was all it took for her to gag and vomit in the bowl.

“You’re such a nuisance. You’re not even getting a bath today, it’s all for nothing if you are a reeking, useless skank.”

She thought this wasn’t such harsh punishment for disobedience. The spit on her face had dried into an itching crust, but she wasn’t even that sweaty because he hadn’t fucked her. She panted at the bowl when he entered her line of sight. He lifted the bowl and dumped the contents on her head. She finally cried when the stench of combined sperm and vomit hit her nostrils.

This still was better than being thrown to those vultures. One night with him was better than having other believers take turns in defiling her. She didn’t know how long they had spent there without a woman, but it showed. She hated how foreign all those objects they put inside her had felt. Her saviour, on the other hand… She found him attractive; he smelled nice and could easily deceive her with his gallantry, at least momentarily. He was warm. He was _familiar_. He didn’t use anything sharp or painful to fill her, just his throbbing cock.

He hated her and kept calling her names, but for the briefest seconds of his orgasm, his eyes rolled with pleasure he couldn’t hide. She knew she was responsible for that pleasure and it filled her with pride. Unwittingly, he gave her a purpose in this accursed place and made her feel she could be useful. He would probably beat her face to pulp if he ever learned she thought of him that way.

***

“No, that’s not right. You’re sucking my dick like you think you can find absolution there. Too easy. You need something more… _visceral_.” He reached to the chair and passed her the bottle. “Drink”.

Was it bleach? It looked like water, but then again, nothing was ever that easy with her saviour. If it was bleach, it would burn her inside out, remove her sin once and for all, and then maybe she would be able to leave. If it was bleach, her entrails would liquefy and she would be hollow and empty. He would ruin her, like it was meant to be.

“Are you thinking about how ungrateful you’re being?”

She furrowed her brow in concentration. Now that he directed her thoughts on the right track, she realised that in fact, she had been thinking about her new fix. She didn’t remember the last time she got one, and withdrawal symptoms threatened to kick in. That’s why she was called to him that night. She needed to do everything that had been asked of her, or otherwise no thought would pierce through splitting headache. That would mean she was being ungrateful and deserved to be in pain. It didn’t look like he was up for anything special, though, and it filled her with dread. What if she wasn’t getting anything? She shifted uncomfortably and started fidgeting. She already managed to forget the sperm and vomit in her hair.

“Tell me when you need to go to the bathroom,” he murmured and she almost sighed in relief when he stripped her down. She grimaced when he lowered her to the cold floor. He didn’t care if someone happened to walk by the throne room; she was his possession, so flaunting it was even better.

“Do you need to pee?” he asked like he was speaking to a small child. She mumbled out a broken “yes”. As on cue, he flipped her on her stomach and pressed his body flush with hers. For a moment he just hovered there in silence, long enough to inspire fear, but not enough to make her twist in his grasp. A shiver ran down her spine when he breathed near her neck and wetted it with his tongue, leaving behind a slick trail. She heard rustling of clothes and felt his cock pressing insistently on her entrance. He slammed into her as far as her tensed muscles allowed and positioned himself at a strange angle. She yelped in pain, but she had expected nothing less.

“So, what are you waiting for? Relieve yourself, if you will.”

“I don’t understand…,” she choked out, confusion swiftly giving way to panic.

“Of course you don’t, you dim-witted whore. I will show you.” He thrusted into her and every pound put an uncomfortable pressure on her bladder. She whined and squeezed her legs together instinctively, but it resulted in even more stimulation.

She finally realised he had tricked her again. The clothes. The bottle. The planned drug withdrawal that made her desperate enough to do his bidding. She sobbed when a trickle of urine dribbled down her thigh, but she still resolved to hold the rest in. Her cheeks burned in shame.

“Yes, that’s more like it! Give me more!” When he saw her reaction, he attacked her with renewed vigour. His relentless pushing had made it increasingly difficult to control her body.

“Please, I can’t… Not like this.” She became painfully aware of everyone in the building. Most importantly, in almost a year she had stayed there, she hadn’t been exposed in this awful and wrong way. Like he had said earlier, she ate and slept in good conditions and other believers were ordered to leave her alone unless the captor said otherwise. She didn’t dwell on this injustice for too long because a different thought immediately invaded her mind. It was her fault for getting used to luxury. Her saviour was law; he could give everything to her and take twice as much.

“Come on. I know it’s hard, but you can do this. I’m gonna make you come if you do what I say like a good little slut.”

“I…” She opened her mouth, letting out a strangled scream, the last remnant of protest. Did she really want to fight? It was difficult to relax in such circumstances, but if he said she could do this… She emptied her bladder on the floor with the loudest, revealing splash.

“You really are funny.” The captor screeched with glee. “In the end, I’m glad that I have kept you. All you need is a little push, an invitation to dance. I think I will be able to make you eat your shit next time.”

He turned her around and helpfully placed her somewhere else, away from the puddle that had formed where she knelt. “Don’t cry. I can give you what you want now. Look me in the eyes.”

She forced herself to recover, but her mind already tried to protect her from the reality that began closing in on her. As much as she was getting progressively despondent, her body still reacted, only serving to confirm the detachment. With a couple of cooed encouragements, he made her oblivious enough to crave the release from his hands. It was a trap, as always, because when she came with devastating force from previous stimulation, he retreated and left her empty. She screamed in frustration before she could stop herself.

“Filthy, filthy, filthy!” He stuck a finger into her twitching hole. “This is it! The sin’s oozing out of you!” He wormed into her brain, the evil presence of his words flooding her mind and scraping her heart. “What a filthy wench you are. Get out before I tell you to grovel in your own piss.”

***

Sometimes, in all his unpredictability, he would caress her arm in some kind of warped aftercare. The hand touching her felt like a pity offered to a tamed animal, broken after long and useless rebellion. She had gotten used to being treated like a cumrag, but this affection activated the emotions that had been locked away for so long. It made her soul scream in anguish, as it was a painful reminder of what could have been, but was taken away from her forever. She stilled in his embrace and gazed out of the window.

_There is no escape. Not in this life. Not in the next_. She believed that if she went outside, there would be rows and rows of concrete blocks in sight until the edge of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *curtain drops and the whole RFA jumps out to hug you* Woah, you’ve made it! Thank you so much for being with me till the end; it was quite a journey for me. I will work on my writing because I know I need to practise the way I convey ideas and that the pacing was weird sometimes. For the time being, please appreciate this story for its artistic value, if there’s any.  
> Guys, remember to eat (this is an MM fanfic, after all), stay healthy and safe, and live your life to the fullest <3


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